Page 104 of Tough Love
Help is here.The whole ordeal is seconds from being over. Relief washes through me, quickly replaced by ice-cold fear as I see Tristan clamber over top of Evan to reach for the damn knife that lies discarded against the wall of the stairwell.
“No!”
I can’t get down the stairs fast enough, and the attending officer doesn’t realise what’s going on until it’s too late.
Tristan braces the handle of the knife against his stomach, and then throws his weight on top of Evan as he tries to wrestle out from beneath him.
I thought the cries of that damn dog would be the sound that forever haunted me, but I guess I never knew the sound of my love being torn from my soul until now, the sound of forever becoming never.
The second officer wrenches Tristan off Evan as he bellows in pain, forcing Tristan’s arms behind his back and cuffing him, but the damage is done.
My ankle rolls in my haste to make the last two steps to the landing.
“No, baby no,” I moan, collapsing beside him.
“Leave it,” he grinds out as I reach for the blade protruding from his side. “It’ll bleed less if you leave it in.” He grits his teeth, dropping his head back to the landing as he closes his eyes.
The attending officer shoves Tristan toward their partner while calling in the incident on the radio.
But it doesn’t matter how quickly the ambulance responds, it won’t be fast enough. Not when the blood already pools beneath Evan’s midsection. Not when he’s rigid with the pain. And not when I can’t do a damn thing to fix him.
“Help’s on the way,” I say through my tears, feeling a million shades of useless as I literally watch the life pour from the man I can’t live without—not again. Not when there are no more second chances.
Evan smiles, rolling his head to face me as I shake uncontrollably, rocking on my knees.
“I saved you this time, babe.” He sighs, closing his eyes. “I saved you when it mattered most.”
His expression relaxes, his face falling slack as he exhales a long, heavy breath.
“No!” I pound his chest, slap at his face … anything to snap him out of it.
The police officer returns, ushering me aside as he throws down a first aid kit and places a large gauze dressing around the blade. “Apply pressure like this. You might need to use both hands.”
I can barely see what I’m doing through the constant stream of tears, my heart failing to beat properly as adrenalin rips through my body.
The officer checks Evan’s pulse, and feels underneath him to gauge how far through the knife has gone. He frowns, searching frantically through his kit, and then as Evan lets out a shaky breath, the officer stills.
My breath lodges in my throat as I watch him intently. “What’s going on?”
He places his ear to Evan’s mouth, fingers on the pulse point in his neck.
No. No, no, fucking no.Not him. Not now. No. Just no.
The compressions start, my hands still firmly lodged around the knife in Evan’s side as the officer begins resuscitation.
“They’re less than five away,” the second cop calls out as she climbs the stairs.
“Aunty?”
God, no.The door. I left the door open.
“Briar, stay there.” I look to the female officer through my tears, and jerk my chin to Evan’s wound. “Can you take over?”
“Sure.” She drops to her knees, placing her hands over mine so as apply continuous pressure when I pull mine away.
The loss of touch hits me hard, like I’m cutting the cord from him, letting him go.
I’m not ready. I don’t want to believe it. Ican’tbelieve it.